


The Brightest Constellation (And The Most Tragic Love)

by nvmsl



Series: We Could Be Immortals (Just Not For Long) [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Character Death, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Romance, Sad, Violence, angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22193431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nvmsl/pseuds/nvmsl
Summary: This is greatest tragedy that Shakespeare never wrote about.This is the brightest constellation that you never found.
Relationships: Artemis/Zoë Nightshade (Percy Jackson)
Series: We Could Be Immortals (Just Not For Long) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863319
Comments: 9
Kudos: 96





	1. Your Name Was Zoe Nightshade.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PJO FANS YEET](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=PJO+FANS+YEET).



> Wrote this because I wanted to rewrite Zoe Nightshade's passing and di immortales, Uncle Rick, make Zartemis canon already !!

_ **I.** _

You gave your heart to a mortal man by the name of Hercules. You thought that he was a hero. You thought that he could save your heart from the confinements of the Garden of Hesperides.

He _could_ do it, but you didn't stop to consider if he _would_ do it.

And so you laid down your armor and handed him your hairpin, willingly and lovingly, with golden blood pounding in your veins. He took your pin, alright, but he also took your heart and threw it to the floor. And after he was done stepping on it, he stumbled into the courtyard, took the prized golden apples, slew your dragon friend, and on the way out, left you at the door. 

Your father disowned you, and your sisters exiled you. You were left without a heart, without a home, without a name, and without golden blood. Instead, you were left with only the tattered clothes on your back, as you dragged your feet down the dusty road. All alone, you carried your now-aging bones and left blood-red footsteps, leading all the way to Rome. 

**_II._ **

You had seen exactly 16 true summers when you first met her, in what is now Morocco. Your meeting happened on a stormy night in the middle of the summer. You walked—or, rather stumbled—blindly onto the path, injured and teary-eyed. You had traveled through Rome and walked among the warrior; you had fought beside the greatest heroes and bled because of the greatest rulers.

Each and every one of them reminded you of _him,_ the person that had caused you to lose your home. 

But then you met _her_. 

When you first met her, she looked the same age as you. Perhaps a summer or two older. Her hair was fiery red (in the moonlight, it was the color of your footsteps that led to Rome) and on her back slung a silver bow (in the moonlight, it was the color of the wolves that snarled by her side, but she held them back). 

You had flinched in mortal fear, weaponless, defenseless, and bruised, but not broken, and somehow still standing and still breathing. The blood pounded in your ears, and you couldn't help but think of your sisters bitterly. You imagined that they were probably bathing in the sun, enjoying the fine life, as you wandered around, tired and hungry. And now, you were fearing for your life. 

The silver huntress offered an arm, you tilted your head in question.

_People who wanted to kill you usually did not offer to help you up from the ground._

Your attention drifted back to the present when she laughed, and you realized that you had said the words out loud.

She asked if you would like to join her... if you wanted to join the Hunt. You asked who she was. 

"Why I am Artemis, my brave one. Surely you have heard of me?"

**_III._ **

You traveled with her for one year and fourteen days before making the choice. On the last day of your seventeenth summer, you knelt before her under the brightest full moon you had ever seen and swore your fealty. 

"I pledge myself to the goddess Artemis," you said, voice steady. "I turn my back on the company of men and join the Hunt." 

A soft breeze drifted by, and it was done. 

Your body did not feel different, and your features did not change. In fact, it seemed as if nothing had changed. But somehow, for the first time in years, you felt like you finally had a home. 

Time passed.

With Artemis and your new sisters, you lived through millennia of civilization, making millions of memories that you would have never even dreamt of back in the Garden. And somewhere along the lines of eternal maidenhood and the rejection of male companions, you and Artemis began to walk closer and closer, until you realized that you, former Hesperide turned loyal lieutenant, had fallen in love with the goddess that you served. 

You knew you had to be honest, and so you confronted her, during a late night in the twentieth century. After spending time in America, you realized your feelings for her, but all around you, you saw the world seeing homosexual love as a sin. You said the three words with tears running down your cheeks, unable to meet her eyes, and waiting for the words to come. But she did no such thing. 

"Thank you for telling me," she whispered softly, her silvery eyes meeting yours. "I always knew your bravery was something else." 

"You do not hate me?" She cupped your face in the palms of her hands and pressed the gentlest of kisses to your lips.

"It was men I swore off," she murmured, her nose brushing lightly against yours as she pulled back. "If it were women, I would have been long gone by now." 

You cried again that night, but she kissed the tears away. With another eight letters, you opened your arms to embrace a future with her. 

**_IV._ **

Now, it is decades later, on a cold cloudy night in San Francisco. You are searching for your lover, traveling with three other warriors. Among them is a boy. He is only witnessing his fifteenth summer, but he wields Anaklusmos like someone you thought you once knew also did. He seems nothing like _him_ though, except he is unbelievably hopeless when it comes to thinking things through. 

You do not know if you should be concerned, disgusted, or proud of this young man. 

It does not matter during this time though. There are more important things, like the fact that your lover is trapped under the sky, and your companions are the only things keeping you from tearing down everything and everyone in your path to her.

You ascend the mountain rapidly. 

It has been thousands of years since you last walked through the Garden, and even longer ago since it has felt like home. Its location has changed many times to many places, from Greece to New Zealand to Morocco to Bolivia, and now, it is in San Francisco.

You storm through the Garden, unable to contain your anger because you know your father has her. Your sisters throw jeers at you, but you pay them no mind. The only things on your mind are your lover and the distance between you and her. You count the steps in your head to keep yourself from destroying it all.

You step into the light, distracting the beloved dragon you once fed by hand. His name rolls off your tongue smoothly. _Ladon._ He was your oldest friend, and one of your biggest regrets.

You notice his dirt-reddened scales and his lean body. You wonder if your sisters fed him well. Did they give him water when he needed it? You remember the simpler days, lying beside him and feeding his hundred heads roasted meats by hand. You remember the first time you met him, and how you slowly held out your hand for him to sniff. 

And now, millennia later, you are reaching out your hand again, palm up, fingers loose. You shuffle two slow steps forward, whispering his name again as your companions skirt around the edges of the Garden, and—

 _Oh!_ Your oldest friend turns against you and one of his heads plunges its teeth into your side. He pulls back a moment later, all hundred heads' expressions twisting with a fusion of emotions, somewhere between confusion and hostility. In his moment of hesitation, you roll away and launch yourself across the clearing, away from your old friend. 

You are lucky, but your chest hurts with something bitter. You can't help but glance back, and when you do, you catch sight of your old friend's dark green eyes, full of longing.

You smile softly as you give a small wave back because _he remembers_. Even after so many years, your oldest friend, the only one that ever made the Garden feel like home, _remembers_. 

_I'm sorry,_ you whisper underneath your breath, as you turn away and continue up the mountain _._ A tear trickles down your cheek, but you wipe it away quickly. _I'll miss you, old friend._

Your chest aches with sorrow as you follow your companions up the mountain. And when you see your father standing thirty feet away from your lover, you accept your fate, because the Oracle never tells lies. 

You know you won't make it out alive. 

**_V._ **

Your lover holds the weight of the sky on her bloody back. She is bleeding gold, but under the pale shade of the shadows in the sky, it looks as though her blood is the same color as the blood pouring from your side. 

Your lover is strong, but the sky is breaking her. You can tell from the taut muscles and the sweat on her skin and the grey of her hair. 

You tug at the chains, but your strength is betraying you. 

You have forgotten about the poison; your movement has started to become sluggish, and your side has started to throb. It feels as though you are fighting against an entire army just to keep your eyes open. But nonetheless, you turn and face the one who forced your lover under the sky. 

Your gaze is hard when you look at the face of the someone you used to call "Father".

He used to hold the weight of the sky, but now he passes the weight of a celestial bronze spear from hand to hand. You turn back again, and take in the image of your lover, once proud, once all-powerful, once happy, and, now, staggering under the weight of a burden that did not belong to her.

You turn back to face him, _Atlas_ , and for the first time in a long while, you act without thinking. 

You snap your bow onto your back and charge. 

**_VI._ **

You should have known that you were no match for your father. Your lover is though, and she forces your father back under his burden of the sky. 

When you lie dying, it is silent. You're pretty sure that you were lifted onto a chariot and brought somewhere quiet, but you're not completely sure either. All you _do_ know is that the clouds have parted and you can see the stars again. They glitter with the same silver shade as your lover's watery eyes. The colors are brighter with the tears, but you know the sadness behind them.

She holds you close in her arms, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. A quiet sob breaks from her throat. She says no words; you know each other well enough to not need them. You reach your hand out to her cheek—you want to feel her in your hands, just one last time. 

You remember, at that moment, that there are still people around. The boy, _Perseus_ , asks a question, and your lover answers quietly, all while applying pressure to your bleeding side. You know it would only hurt her more if you confessed your love again. So you choose not to, and with the little strength you have, you whisper, "Have I... served thee well?"

"With great honor," she replies softly. "The finest of my attendants." You relax and nod slightly, understanding the underlying meaning. 

"Rest. At last," you try to smile. As you look at your lover's eyes, your gaze shifts from the silver in front of you to the silver in the sky, and you think, _the stars are awfully bright tonight_. 

She tries to convince you, "I can try to heal the poison, my brave one." The nickname rolls off her tongue easily, and you wonder if you'll ever hear it again. It will be a foreign feeling, after being called it for millennia. What will it be like to not hear it? 

You know the truth. And you know that she knows, too. 

When you look at her watery eyes, you know that you are beyond saving, because immortals don't cry like that.

Lovers do. 

_ **VII.** _

You turn away, to the spiky-hair girl, _Thalia_ , kneeling beside your lover. You know she will join the Hunters after you're gone. You only wish that you could have been there to watch her become a great huntress.

You say, "I am sorry we argued..." Her hand is in your right one, and you squeeze it gently. Your left hand still grips your lover's arm. The words continue to spill from your mouth. "We could have been sisters," you say to the black-haired girl. 

Looking back, you remember all of the arguments you had with her, and he can't help but smile. Because even though the two of you fought like lions and tigers, there were still so many good times that you had with her. Sparring sessions, heavy sarcasm, inappropriate pranks. It was nothing like your friendship with the other hunters, and even though you only spent two weeks with her and ended up having a huge fight at the end, you were grateful. 

_Because even though we fought like we were each other's mortal enemies, you were the closest thing to a sister I ever had._

"It's my fault," she says, tears in her eyes. "You were right about Luke, about heroes, men— everything." You are fighting to keep your eyes open now, your lover's face blurring every now and then. Thalia's black hair is also blurring with the dark obsidian sky. 

"Perhaps not all men," you murmur after a moment of silence. You ask for the boy. He comes, lowering himself to be beside you.

"You spoke the truth, Percy Jackson," you cough. "You are nothing like..." A flash of bitterness runs through your body as you think of your first love, the one who took your heart and smashed it to pieces. 

"...like Hercules. I am honored that you carry this sword." Your cough turns into wheezing for a moment before you cough again, and the blood comes out. A shudder runs through your body at the sight of it. 

The boy says something, but you are so far away already. Your lover, Artemis, pulls you closer into her arms. The feeling of her arms around you is slowly starting to fade. 

"Stars," you murmur, your eyes drooping for a brief moment, but somehow still open and looking up. "I can see the stars again, milady." A sob rips from your lover's throat. 

You want to comfort her. 

You want to say... 

_ **VIII.** _

_I love you_ , your mind says on repeat. _I love you so much_. You cannot get the words out, but she understands though.

A single teardrop trickles down her cheek onto yours. You want to weep. Maybe yell out a few profanities at your father, too. You're not quite sure where you are, but if you're still at the mountain, he would probably be about fifteen feet away.

You wonder if he ever loved you the way he loved your sisters.

You were always the odd one out. You preferred to wear short chitons instead of the long sleeveless ones that your sisters wore. You chose to play with the dragon instead of taking care of the plants in the Garden. You chose to hug your father when your sisters kissed his cheek. 

You wonder if you did things differently, would things have been better? 

Maybe. Maybe not. 

You think, _If I had the opportunity to do it all over again, I would not change anything._ _Because a long life without Artemis would not have been better than a short one with her._

Your eyes flutter shut for a moment before you feel your own tears falling. 

You want to tell your lover to stop crying, that you will always love her, that you will always be with her. A corner of your mind wants to ask her if she will always remember you, but then you realize, that would just be selfish.

You think, _m_ _illennia of history, of love and joy, all gone in a single night_. Your eyes are still wide open, staring at her silver eyes; your lips are still moving, but your voice has betrayed you, and none of your _I love you'_ s are able to leave your mouth. You close your mouth and settle with tracing the constellations with your eyes. 

Maybe if you do not look at her, it won't hurt as much. 

Instead, your eyes wander across the sky, drifting from one familiar constellation to another. _Canis major. Canis minor. Gemini. Orion_ _— has that star next to his belt been there all this time?_

You try your best to squint at the usually bright star. It's beautiful and bright and easily stands out from the others. You just want to observe it quietly for a few more seconds, to gaze at the constellations for a couple more minutes, to feel your lover's warmth around you for _just a little longer._ Your glance back at her, and even with her expression of guilt and pain, she looks beautiful, and under the moonlight, her tears shimmer like the stars. 

"Stars," you say, and the last thing you see before the light consumes your vision is the tear-stained face of your lover. The last sound you hear is a soft, muted _I love you_ , whispered in your ear, and kept from the people surrounding the two of you. The last thought that crosses your mind is that, no, it wasn't true, the "For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo". 

Juliet and Romeo could have never compared to you and Artemis. 


	2. Your Name Was Artemis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pt 2 because I wanted to write in Artemis's pov

_ **I.** _

You had spent centuries searching for adventures. 

They called you the goddess of the wilderness: untamed and unbound, always looking for more, be it monsters, dangers, or adventures. You lived for the thrill of the unplanned journeys, the breathless climbs, the ferocious animals. You were high on— and completely addicted to—the adrenaline of exploring the world, and at Olympus, you were _so, so_ _bored_. 

The Hunts were just an excuse for you to do something about your ennui. You had traveled from the edge of the world to the highest peak of Mount Olympus, just for the fun of it, but it still was not enough. At the end of the day, you had always returned home, pouting and slumping back onto a comfortable bed, thinking, _there must be more._

Your brother, Apollo, laughed at you for it. 

“You are such a child,” he said. “A restless one, who throws tantrums when you do not get what you want.” 

“Apollo, I am older than you. I helped our mother deliver you, for Father's sake!"

"Mhm, sure." 

"Also, even if I do act like a child, at least I am not lazy, like a dear brother of mine.” 

“Ah, yes, of course, whatever you say," he had sat up then, looking at you with an unusual glint in his eyes. "I think you just need a lover. Maybe multiple. Every one of them would be an adventure.” 

You had scowled at him in return, going on a rant about how you had sworn off men. He sat patiently, nodding to your words. When you finally stopped, he wriggled his eyebrows at you, his golden hair glittering under the sunlight and his lips pulled up in a mischievous grin. 

“But Arti, why do you not just go and find a woman?” 

**_II._ **

It was a stormy night in Morocco when you met her. You and your huntresses were journeying along the coast for your latest adventure, searching for a creature that Hades had asked you to capture for him. Cerberus was its name, a three-headed dog. Apparently, Hercules had been tasked with the same job as well, but Hades was not approving of having another nephew become a god. 

You were alone at the time, scouting a path with your wolves, when she stumbled blindly into the middle of the trail, bleeding from various wounds scattered around her body. Her head was raised high, though, and her eyes still had a sharp and lively look as she watched you warily, like a wounded animal, when you approached her. You stuck out your hand, and she stared at it in surprise, before murmuring something to herself. 

“People who want to kill me do not usually offer to help me up from the ground…” 

At that, you could not help but laugh out loud, before closing the distance between the two of you and pulling her up from the ground. She looked at you, startled, not realizing that she had spoken aloud. 

“Would you like to join the Hunt?” You asked, carefully wiping some of the blood off of the girl’s face and arms. She muttered something incoherently, coughing as she did so. 

You managed to catch her name in the middle of the rambling. _Zoe_. A fitting name, for someone so bruised and bloody, but with eyes full of life. 

Now that some of the blood was gone and you were closer to her, you began to notice her features. She looked the same age as your physical body, if not, a little younger. Her hair was a rich, dark shade of brown, nearly black; it fell over her shoulder in stringy but distinct waves. Her eyes glittered a bright hazel color, and freckles were splashed across her nose and onto her cheeks. She looked tired and hungry, but she also looked _beautiful_. Something drew you to her, like a moth to a flame, and you were not sure if it was a good thing. 

At that moment, you forgot about finding Cerberus. You had found something—someone—that was a thousand times Cerberus’s worth. 

You lowered her weary body onto the ground before pulling your buffalo horn filled with water from your side and bringing it up to her lips. The horn was tilted forward slightly, and the girl drank greedily from it. After several moments, she came back up for air, and asked—or, rather, demanded— to know who you are. 

She had true courage, and you had to give her that. 

"Why I am Artemis, my brave one. Surely you have heard of me?" 

**_III._ **

She traveled with the Hunt for one year and fourteen days before making the choice. You knew because you had been counting the days since she joined (but you would never tell her that, of course). On the last day of a surprisingly warm summer, she knelt before you under the full moon and swore her fealty. 

"I pledge myself to the goddess Artemis," she said, eyes meeting yours. "I turn my back on the company of men, accept eternal maidenhood, and join the Hunt." 

You accepted her pledge quietly, whispering a blessing as a breeze drifted past. 

Life went on, but your adventures grew less frequent. Your huntresses were given more time to relax, and you accepted bounty hunts less. You were not sure why, but something about her made you want to be more careful with the Hunts. You did not want to lose her. 

Of course not. You lost too many huntresses in the hands of wild beasts already. It would be terrible to lose another. That was what you told yourself. 

And so time passed. With Zoe and the rest of your huntresses, you lived through millennia of civilization, traveling to the deepest undergrounds to the highest mountain peaks to the furthest corners of the world. 

It was a Spring afternoon in America when one of your newer maidens asked you in private if women's companionship was permitted in the Hunt. You did not see why not. It was men that were sworn off, after all. You were not sure how it would work, but she was willing to show you how. 

You slept with her that night, and the feelings you experienced… were godly. 

When the two of you emerged from your tent late in the morning, a couple of girls glanced your way curiously. You wondered if the two of you were loud or something. You wondered if you broke your oath. Would your father strike you down with his lightning?

When you looked at Zoe, she greeted you with the same excitement she had every day, and without even knowing it, you released a small sigh of relief. 

You did not know why, but you just _did_. 

_ **IV.** _

Weeks later, by a lake in Pennsylvania, she confronted you, asking for a private audience. At first, you thought that she was just going to discuss plans with you. After all, she was your lieutenant and was in charge of much of the planning. You did not care for plans, that was your lieutenant’s job; you preferred to act on instinct. It was part of the thrill of everything.

But then, she started crying, and you were no longer sure what was happening. She stuttered out the words, _I love you_ , all spilling from her lips. It looked like she wanted to say more, but she hugged herself as if bracing for you to condemn her or hurt her. 

You should have known. America and its hatred of homosexuals— of course, she would feel ashamed! This country was absolutely the worst when it came to the freedom of lovers. 

"Thank you for telling me," you said slowly, now sure of your feelings. "I always knew your bravery was something else." 

"You do not hate me?" Hazel eyes peered up at you from under loose curls of hair. You took a few steps closer to her and cupped her cheeks in your hand. You brushed away the tear tracks and huffed softly. The rush of adrenaline was back again, but this time, you were not fighting or anything. Maybe Apollo was actually right for once. Maybe falling for someone truly _was_ like an adventure. You were not sure where the journey would lead the two of you, but you were done trying to figure out your feelings. 

With your hand brushing along her jaw, you pulled her close and pressed the gentlest of kisses to her lips. There was a brief moment before you spoke again.

"It was men I swore off," you said. "If it were women, I would have been long gone by now." 

She cried again that night, but you kissed the tears away and wrapped her in your embrace. You gave her your blessing, and the two of you spent the night away from the others, together alone by the lake. 

You wonder if the huntresses noticed that a new star formed that night. It was a small but bright one, a little to right next to Orion’s belt. 

You named it _Nightshade_ , after your brave one. 

**_V._ **

Now, it is centuries later, on a cold cloudy night in San Francisco. You are alone on the mountain, holding the weight of the sky. To your left, perhaps ten feet or so away lies a makeshift sleeping bag, with the blonde. _Annabeth_. She is practically your niece, you think, since Athena _is_ your sister. 

When you were first brought to the mountain, she had been the one holding the sky up. You were offered a choice: let the girl die, or take the burden yourself. 

You did not hesitate. After all, she was half-mortal, and you could see the streak of grey that the weight had given her. You knew that she had been tricked by a man (you were sure only men could be so heartless), and you sympathized with her. 

And so you laid down your pride and took on the burden that did not belong to you, and she collapsed to the ground beside you. The traitor, _Luke_ , took her away, but you were no longer paying attention to your surroundings. Atlas’s jeers fell on deaf ears, and the only thing you could think about was the weight of the sky. 

It was painful to hold, and your arms burned with the effort. You were not made for this. Your body was built to be lean and lithe, small and agile. Your spirit was made to be free; you were never meant to be chained under and burdened with the sky. 

You do not know how long you held the sky for, but you saw the braid that fell over your shoulders to the front of your chest run from a bright red to a dull grey. During that time, you wished that you had the power to foresee the future. 

Your curiosity keeps stabbing at you, along with the feeling of the chains on your wrists that keeps you bound. _Would Jackson arrive on time? Would your lieutenant be alright? Would you spend the rest of forever pinned under the sky?_

You could only hope that everything turned out to be alright. 

**_VI._ **

When your lover arrives, she runs to your side, crying with relief and tugging at your chains. The next few minutes pass by in a blur. There are brief flashes of things happening— you remember telling her not to take the burden, noticing the blood on her side, watching as Zoe charged at her father. 

Moments later, the boy comes to your side, slashing at your chains. You warn him of the weight; he tells you that he’ll die anyway. And so he carefully slips into your place, and you roll off onto the side, taking a brief rest as the fires in your arms cool a little. 

Immediately, you are back on your feet and joining in with the fighting. You dash to Zoe’s side. 

“You are no match for him,” you whisper, and she bows her head begrudgingly, handing you her hunting knives before distancing herself and readying her bow. Sparks fly around the two of you, and you tackle Zoe to the ground, avoiding Thalia’s lightning-based attacks on Luke. 

The adrenaline is coursing through your veins as you push and pull Atlas to where you want him to be. But at the last moment, you fall for one of the most basic tricks in the book. He feints with the tip of his javelin and you dodged, only to be swept off your feet. You land on a rocky pile, and a thin piece of jagged rock protrudes from the front of your thigh. 

It hurts, and there is ichor everywhere as Atlas raises his javelin to deliver the final blow. You watch him, knowing that there is nothing else that you can do. An injured deer knows when to stop running and accept its fate. 

“NO!” A startling cry from your lover jerks Atlas’s attention away from you, and an arrow lodges itself in the middle of the titan’s forehead. Your lover stands a few steps away from you with another arrow pointed at her father, but before she has the chance to shoot, he sweeps her aside with his hand, and her body slams against the black rocks near the side of the mountain, and she slumps there, unmoving. 

At the sight of your lifeless lover, you lose control. 

_** VII.  ** _

With the help of Annabeth’s brave father and your own blessed deer, you travel away from the mountain with your lover in your arms, the demigods hopping on as well. The deer bring all of you to an open field where the skies are clear, and Annabeth’s father lands behind your chariot. 

Your lover lies in your arms, eyes wide but losing focus. The silvery glow that usually surrounds her from the blessing you gave is now fading away. You place your hand to her side, to assess the wound. 

The boy asks if you can heal her with your magic. You pull your hand back at that. 

“Life is a fragile thing, Percy. If the Fates will the string to be cut, there is little I can do… But I can try.” And you pray.

You look to the sky and blink away the tears that are threatening to fall, praying to and asking the Fates, _is this it please don't let this be the end please not yet not like this,_ as you reach for your lover’s side again, channeling energy into your fingertips. But your lover grabs your wrist, stopping you. Her eyes glitter softly under the starry sky, and you know it's just the Fates sending you their answer. You just _know_. 

_It is time to let go._

The tears spill from your eyes, and you can't do anything to stop them. A muffled sob breaks from your throat and your chest throbs, aching from something rooted deep inside you.

You're sure that your heart is bleeding gold for the dying girl in front of you. 

She reaches her arm out toward you, and her right hand brushes along your cheek. The other hand grips your arm tightly. Her hazel eyes still shine with the light in them that you saw the first time you met her. 

The boy, Jackson, asks a question, and you answer softly, remembering all the times where your lover told you to be quiet while stargazing. You do not break eye contact with her, and you keep pressing your arm to her side, trying to slow the bleeding as much as you can. 

You know it does not help much, but every extra second you can get is worth it. 

Your lover, always the loyal and braver one, speaks first, "Have I... served thee well?"

"With great honor," you reply softly, as another tear makes its way down your face. "The finest of my attendants."

_My only favorite. My loyal lieutenant. My selfless lover. My brave one._

She nods slightly. “Rest. At last.” The corners of her lips seem to curl up into a smile, just slightly, and it brings another choked sob out of you. Her hazel eyes break away from yours as she looks past your shoulder to the sky.

"I can try to heal the poison, my brave one," you say, swallowing the knot in your throat. The nickname rolls off your tongue easily, and you wonder if you’ll ever say it again to her face. It will be a foreign feeling, after saying it for millennia. Your chest throbs at the thought, and another tear falls. 

At that moment, you wish that your brother told you what was coming. 

_ **IIX.** _

She speaks with the others, first Thalia, then Jackson. After that, her gaze turns back to you. Blood falls from the side of her lips as she coughs. 

"Stars," she murmurs, as you pull her close, wiping at your own tears on your sleeve. "I can see the stars again, milady." A sob rips from your throat, and it takes you a moment to speak again. 

“Yes, my brave one... They are beautiful tonight.” _Like you. Like you’ve always been._

You close your eyes, hoping to stay in this moment forever. You do not want her to leave. It is too soon. You were supposed to be together forever. Another millennium, a few more millennia. 

When you open your eyes again, she’s crying, too. Your tears are falling onto her cheek, and you want to curse someone. The gods, the titans, the Fates, yourself. 

You hate this. Hate it all. Hate your immortality, the golden blood in your veins, the magic in your hands, and memories in your mind. You understand that you will spend the rest of eternity with your lover just out of your reach, and you hate it, so, so much. 

_Millennia of history, of love and joy, all gone in a single night._ Your eyebrows lift in surprise at her words, which are barely whispered. Then, you cannot help but smile softly, because there she is, doing it again. Speaking her thoughts without even knowing it. 

Her unfocused faze drifts from your eyes to the sky again, and she says one more word before her hand drops from your cheek. You don't even need to turn to look, because you already know which star is shining the brightest tonight. 

You wonder if she knows that you named it after her. 

“Stars,” she whispers as you pull her close, unable to stop yourself anymore. You say it quietly into her ears, and even if the others do hear, you do not care anymore. 

_I love you._ _I love you. I love you._

You hold her close for another long moment until a barely-suppressed sob from Annabeth reminds you of where you are. You look to the sky again, seeing the star you named after her glow brightly. 

The mortals always said that some of the brightest stars were also the oldest. 

You wonder if they knew that they were also the ones that had already died. 

** _IX._ **

You know what you have to do. Cupping your hand over your lover’s mouth, you mutter the Ancient Greek words under your breath. It has been centuries since you last spoke these words for Orion; you hope you still remember them. There is a moment of silence, and a silvery wisp of smoke is exhaled from Zoe’s lips, and you catch it in your hand. 

Your lover’s body slowly disappears, starting from her boots and going up through her body. Your impulsive nature acts once again, and the Mist bends around you so that your companions are seeing something different from what you are seeing. 

Blended by the Mist, you lean forward and press one last kiss to your lover’s mouth. It is still warm, and you can taste the bitter metallic blood. You pressed one more kiss to your lover’s forehead, and she is gone. The Mist dissolves around you because there is nothing to hide now. The truth is settling in. 

_She’s gone._

You stand shakily, and Thalia rushes to your side, reaching out to steady you, but you wave her off with your free hand. You breathe a blessing into your cupped hand, the same one you gave her so many years ago, and open your palm, letting the silver dust in it float to the sky. 

Moments later, you see the familiar figure of your beloved running across the sky, with a bow and arrow drawn. The tip of the arrow aligns with her star, and you smile, even though it’s bittersweet. 

“Let the world honor you, my Huntress,” you say, as steadily as you can, but your voice still cracks. “Live forever in the stars.” 

_I will never forget you, my brave one._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actually cried writing this because I was rereading Titan's Curse and remembered that ARTEMIS WAS PRACTICALLY ACTING LIKE A MORTAL WHEN ZOE DIED and she CRIED like anyone else would AND Percy said that she was SO UPSET that she was LEGIT FLICKERING WITH SILVER LIGHT AND HE WAS WORRIED THAT SHE WOULD LOSE CONTROL AND SHOW HER TRUE FORM AJDKLFKDJGJKDLKJEURI
> 
> Sorry for the all caps, I'm going to go back to bed and cry myself to sleep thinking about these two again.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey yall Zartemis fans! join the Zartemis discord that my fellow Zartemis writer @Zoe_Nightshade_Rules made: https://discord.gg/c8Tu9BPu7R
> 
> Zoe Nightshade needs more appreciation. And so does Bianca di Angelo. And Phoebe. And, like, all of the Hunters. Plus Artemis.
> 
> OK, I first wrote this in, like, fifth grade. I'm in 10th grade now, so yeah... but I edited the entire thing, like four times, so hopefully the writing was goode-ish. I still love Percy Jackson, and if you're here, I'm guessing you do, too. Love all y'all because any fan of PJO and HoO is a friend of mine.
> 
> Comments are super appreciated :)


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